On the Run
by MichaelJacksonFanGirl1996
Summary: This fanfic is based off the "Smooth Criminal" segment of the movie "Moonwalker". Originally, I wrote a creative essay about the Roaring Twenties with 1920s slang. I've modified it to create the first chapter and put in '30s and '40s slang.


**On the Run**

Chapter One-The Man in the White and Blue Suit

Anna's Narrative

October 7th, 1947-

The Club 30s. One of the most popular hangout places in Chicago. The people that normally came to the speakeasy just went there to hang out, talk with friends and have a few drinks of booze. I first came to the bar after my friend Tallulah told me about it, saying that cute guys in suits always go there. I've been going to the Club 30s for almost two months, which was enough time for me to wise up about the gin mill and its usual inhabitants.

I sat at an empty table next to the billiards table, wearing my new red dress, along with my usual black lace gloves, nylons, ruby earrings, brown hair up with a feather and my high heels. Everyone was talking while the band played jazz music in the background. Staring at the brick wall, I wondered why my friend wanted me to come to the speakeasy on a cold October night. I didn't get why I was nervous that evening. Turning my gaze to some women talking to men in zoot suits, I started to feel like a crumb; I wasn't that great with making friends, even at the age of 25. As I let out a silent sigh, the club door suddenly opened and someone walked in. Everybody stopped what they were doing and looked at the gatecrasher; the entryway had already closed lickety-split when we turned our heads to the intruder at the same time.

The gatecrasher was a young man with light brown skin and was wearing a copacetic outfit: White jacket, suspenders, pants, tie and spats; polished black leather shoes; blue socks and silk shirt; blue armband on his right jacket sleeve and a white fedora with a blue band. Part of his face was hidden from the shadow of the fedora's brim. His black curly hair was pulled back into a ponytail. Amidst the silence, some of the the men were whispering softly to their nearby colleagues.

"_Who is that guy?"_ I wondered to myself.

The abrupt clicking sound from a few guns brought me out of my thoughts and into the real world. The stranger had pulled back the right side of his jacket, maybe to get out a hidden revolver. But instead, and to my relief, he put his hand in his pocket, pulled out a simple quarter and flipped it to the jukebox about 15 feet away from him. I noticed that he also had a few pieces of white tape attached to three fingers on his right hand. While everyone's attention was on the flying piece of silver, I looked at the man in the white and blue suit curiously. Once the quarter entered the 1015 bubbler via the coin slot, I heard a loud noise that made me jump in surprise out of my seat. Then booming fast-paced music began to play; it wasn't coming from the music player or the band on the little stage, and it absolutely wasn't the kick I was used to at that point.

Some of the members of the crowd began to dance to the tune shortly after the gatecrasher stepped forward, stopped and began to sing:

_As he came into the window,_

_It was the sound of a crescendo._

_He came into her apartment,_

_Left the bloodstains on the carpet._

He walked forward again.

_She ran underneath the table,_

_He could see she was unable._

_So she ran into the bedroom,_

_She was struck down. It was her doom._

"_What the heck is this guy singing about?" _I thought. _"Pretty darn good tenor, though."_

_Annie, are you OK?_

_So Annie, are you OK?_

_Are you OK, Annie?_

He reached the bar where two men in suits seemed to be waiting for their cue; they danced with him.

_Annie, are you OK?_

_So Annie, are you OK?_

_Are you OK, Annie?_

_Annie, are you OK?_

_So Annie, are you OK?_

_Are you OK, Annie?_

The stranger separated from the gangster back up dancers, hopped onto the stage without missing a beat and grasped the microphone stand.

_Annie, are you OK?_

_So Annie, are you OK?_

_Are you OK, Annie?_

When he brought the mic close to his mouth, other voices sang in harmony with him while the guys and dolls moved to the music.

_(Annie, are you OK?)_

_(Will you tell us that you're OK?)_

_(There's a sign in the window)_

_(That he struck you- a crescendo, Annie.)_

_(He came into your apartment.)_

_(Left the bloodstains on the carpet.)_

_(Then you ran into the bedroom,)_

_(You were struck down. It was your doom.)_

Everybody in the speakeasy was dancing to this strange music; I was the only one that wasn't affected by the tune. Yet. I turned to the exit to get out of the club, but that was when the music started to control me. My gloved hands slowly drew up the left side of my red dress and exposed my leg.

"_Why I am I doing this?" _I thought. _"Stop!"_

One of the fellas in dark suits came up to me, probably thinking I was a share crop, and grabbed at my arm to make me stop and look at him. Then another guy approached me from my left side and they tried to make a pass with me while arguing over me. I was too afraid in this sticky situation that I didn't pay attention to the gunshot behind me and a body landing on the floor with a _THUMP_. One of the two guys hit the other one and I ducked to avoid getting punched by their incoming fists, which knocked them both out. I spun around to the music when an caught me around the waist. Looking up, I saw that it was the man in the white and blue suit; I was able to finally look at his face. He had these keen brown eyes that I couldn't stop staring into. The man also had a slightly pointed nose.

After I spun again, the gatecrasher's hand smoothly slid from my waist to the underside of my arm, palm and he let go as we both took a step backwards in unison with the drums and bass. His touch made me feel tingly and warm inside.

"Mmmmm..." I voiced to myself as I lightly placed my hand on my collarbone; this man was definitely a dreamboat.

The handsome stranger watched a nearby game of some kind with money played by some other gangsters.

_Annie, are you OK?_

_So Annie,are you OK?_

_Are you OK, Annie?_

_Annie, are you OK?_

_So Annie, are you OK?_

_Are you OK, Annie?_

One of the gangsters grabbed the money on the ground and did a rather odd dance to celebrate his victory.

_Annie, are you OK?_

_So Annie, are you OK?_

_Are you OK, Annie?_

The gatecrasher noticed the dancing winner, came up to him, judo flipped the guy (who landed flat on his back, holding up his winnings with a stiff arm) took a stack of dollar bills and put that inside his jacket.

_You've been hit by,_

_You've been hit by_

_A smooth criminal._

Once again, the gangsters behind him danced with him before he trekked to the billiards table, just in time to catch the white cue ball that bounced up from one of the table's edges. The man in the white and blue suit spun around, faced a guy on his right and crushed the ball like a fragile Christmas ornament into white powder. The gangster that shot the ball to the other side of the table snapped his cue stick in frustration; he pointed threateningly at the gatecrasher. The gatecrasher casually walked to the angry gangster, spun again and blew the dust from his hand into the man's eyes. I watched the handsome stranger as he went up the staircase, who saw my friend Tallulah standing on the flight of the stairs with a clear sappy look in her dark eyes.

Tallulah was an African American woman that wore a gold flapper dress. I've known her for about two years. She always did her best to improve my social life, especially with men. But at the same time, she loved to steal money from guys if she ever got the chance.

The man in the spiffy suit's walk turned into a jog, making him go a little bit faster, stood in front of Tallulah and lightly stroked her cheek. A wave of jealousy filled my soul. I wanted him to touch me like that. Tallulah's hand's moved secretly into the man's pocket, pulled out a $20 bill and stuffed it into her bra when the gatecrasher turned to continue going up the steps. She was a natural gold digger.

_So they came into the outway,_

_It was Sunday. What a black day._

_Every time I try to find him,_

_He's leaving no clues left behind him._

_And he had no way of knowing_

_Of the suspect or what to expect._

_Mouth to mouth resuscitation,_

_Sounding heartbeats- intimidations._

Once the gatecrasher disappeared from my view, Tallulah turned her gaze to me and winked. That meant that everything was going to one of her plans.

The "Annie, are you OK"'s were repeated again; I guessed it was probably the bridge to this tune. Once again, the music controlled me, making me sit down at my chair. Everyone banged their fists on nearby table surfaces to the impact sounds in the song. Looking up, I saw the handsome gatecrasher on the metal staircase, that was somehow being lowered, and jumped off when it was close enough to the ground. The chorus was sung for the second time and I got up and danced in unison with the others. One of the goons picked me up and held me over his head as I was snapping my fingers to the beat. He lowered me down just as the man in the white and blue suit ascended onto a table, where he spun for an impossible amount of time. He suddenly stopped with his hand casually in his pocket and pointing up, saying "Aaow!"

One of the overhead windows was shattered by his voice, glass pieces falling to the ground; the lights also changed into a soft blue instead of the usual yellow. Something began to happen inside everyone, making them moan. I too was affected; some sort of warm, liquefied sensation slowly sweeping inside my veins. The moans I heard sounded like the ones made when experiencing sensual pleasure or experiencing the pain of a serious wound. My gam unconsciously rose up above my head.

"_What's happening?" _I thought to myself, trying to fight this unwanted enjoyment and put my leg down.

But when I struggled with the feeling, I started to get dizzy. Purple spots enclosed my vision as the room spun around me. Deliberately attempting to stay standing, I suddenly felt weak and fell over backwards but was seized by the gatecrasher before I hit the ground. His right hand held me around my waist while the other lightly touched my cheek.

When I looked into his eyes, he brought me closer to his form and gently whispered "Don't try to fight it, Anna. Just go with the flow."

His whisper was so soothing and soft to my ears, making me relax. Giving in to the bliss, I let my leg slowly lift up onto his hip as my arms wrapped themselves around his neck. The hand that was on my cheek slid down my side and rested on my risen leg, caressing my thigh; it felt amazing. When he was done, the gatecrasher carefully brought my leg back down and let go of me with my strength returning.

Some of the fellas began to faintly chant the "Annie, are you OK"'s and became louder when everyone else, including myself, joined in. The sensation inside me somehow let me know that the tune was going to resume. The gatecrasher took off his hat, letting me see how curly his hair was, shouted _"So Annie, are you OK?"_, and the crowd responded by saying _"Are you OK, Annie?"_, which was the signal for the song to continue and lights to come back on. Everyone, except for the man in the white and blue suit and four other gangsters, cleared the dance floor. The five men did a fast dance that wasn't the jitterbug, but it was exciting to watch.

A big fella in a brown suit walked to the gatecrasher, which caused the four backup dancers to cower back into the audience, and we all watched as the gatecrasher appeared to be sliding forward with his feet, but was actually going backwards to get farther away from the gangster. The big man left the dance floor as four new backup hoofers in gangster suits separated from the crowd and did an incredible stunt with the man in the white and blue suit: All four of them, after titling their fedoras closer to their faces, leaned at an unimaginable angle before smoothly getting upright and went back to dancing.

The chorus repeated again and I joined the dancing group while the others followed suit. This song was fun to dance with; but the escapade was cut short when we heard the sound of marching feet directly above us. Everyone except for the gatecrasher looked up and saw silhouettes of a strange army of trigger men dressed in odd armor, carrying rifles and walking in cadence to the beat of outside the overhead windows. I started to get the heebie-jeebies when I realized that the man in the spiffy suit didn't sense the danger. The calvary stopped marching, turned and pointed their guns to the people inside the building. Fearing for my life and the gatecrasher's, I tapped him on the shoulder; he stopped moving to the music when he looked at me, saw that I was pointing up and finally sighted the army. Panic and terror was read on his face: The armed forces were after him. He ran to the middle of flooring and everyone crowded around him.

He crouched down and came back up holding a Chicago typewriter. I was the first the drop to the floor after seeing the chopper. Everyone else that surrounded him ran for cover as he opened fire at the infantry; the soldiers retreated.

One of the fellas grabbed the man in the white and blue suit's arm, leading him to the exit. A swing dancer wearing a green dress helped get the gatecrasher off the dance floor and closer to the club door. The gangster snatched the gun away from the gatecrasher, telling him to scram, and the man in the spiffy suit was forced outside the exit just before the woman shut the door. The music stopped and never played again.

Standing up after the door was closed, I felt many mixed emotions: Confusion; shock; heartbroken and exhausted. After a few silent moments, everyone began to talk again as if nothing had happened. Upset about the mysterious man that was kicked out of the speakeasy, I heaved myself to a nearby table that was occupied by a wide-eyed Tallulah.

"Anna?" she began. "What's eating you up?"

I bowed my head and felt hot tears flowing down my cheeks, sniffling.

"There's something I have to tell you," Tallulah said.

"What is it?" I questioned with my voice cracking.

"The guy in the swanky suit came here because I arranged him to be your blind date," she answered.

Wiping the tears from my eyes, I looked up and said "Huh?"

"It was a surprise for you," she continued.

"Did he say what his name is?" I asked her, feeling a little bit hopeful.

"No. He didn't," Tallulah sighed sadly. "I talked to him on the telephone and he also mentioned that he was on the run."

My heart sank and eyes widened; "On the run?" I repeated.

"Yeah," she replied.

"_He was probably running from someone that wanted him dead," _I thought. _"That's why he opened fire at the army of henchman. To not only save his skin, but the others around him."_

Looking back down at the brown, wooden table, my mind was still on the handsome gatecrasher: His beautiful eyes, hotsy-totsy speaking and singing voice, how he danced and... his touch. The recent memory of him dancing with me and stroking my leg was playing inside my head. I really wished that he would've kissed me, but that was the first time we've ever met.

"Annie?" Tallulah said, snapping me out of my thoughts; she hasn't called me by that nickname in a long time. "Are you OK?"

I shook my head and whispered one word: "No."

Sighing and shutting my eyes closed to try and stop the tears, I thought _"If only I knew his name..."_


End file.
